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Life in the Harem
A look at the harem of Jabba the Hutt-from the eyes of many of its inhabitants. ''Mefora Arless'' Her eyes straining from the transition out of the blaze of her homeworld's sun into the darkened room, Mefora struggled to see even a foot in front of her. A loud clang, followed by the beep of a lockpad, told her that she was sealed inside the cell. The floor beneath her bare feet (she had lost her shoes when the mansion was raided) felt smooth and cool. A scent of flowers, fruit, and something she could not quite place filled the warm air, and a whirring (if invisible) fan sent tendrils of it washing over her, the scent swirling around her and enticing her forward. Stumbling blindly ahead, she made solid contact with a wall, made not of stone but of some thick, draped cloth. Following the lines of the drapery, her hand ran over a switch, and she froze. A voice hailed her from the darkness."Go ahead, press it. We could all use a little light, you know." It was a friendly voice, with a hint of mischief about it. Still, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with turning on the lights. She took a deep breath and flicked the switch upwards. Mercifully, the lights did not snap on all at once-her retinas would have disintegrated from strain. A series of glow panels slowly lit up, and then some sky-lights opened, showing her a scene that she wouldn't believe existed even in the luxuries of her plush mansion, let alone on this city-world. What she had thought a cell was actually a massive room, with a floor of white marble, only the edge of which was visible under the thick rugs that lay on it. Piles of cushions were scattered about, and low, broad silk couches lined the walls and edged the ten large pools that were cut into the floor. A light steam rose from them and rolled along the floor, swirling around any solids it encountered. the walls, as she had discovered, were made of a thick, soft fabric, which hung in billows from golden cords and marble pillars, or else long silver rods between the columns. Bowls of exotic fruits and wine stood on holders throughout the place, and the exotic scent was revealed to be from the many braziers that puffed sedately from discreet alcoves. Trays of perfumes or makeup lay next to each couch, aparrently at the disposal of their occupants-and it was the occupants that drew her attention the most. Fully two dozen extremely pretty girls lounged on the rooms luxurious furnishings, or in the pools, or even on the thick carpeting. To a one, they seemed at once expectant, but also entirely at ease-one had not even stopped shaving. Most were sipping sedately at goblets of fine gold or crystal. One couch in particular drew her eye. A sea of billowy blue silk, the four girls on it somehow seemed superior to the rest, and even while she waited one got up and walked gracefully over. She was extremely beautiful, with rich brown hair and a perfectly sized chest. "Welcome," the girl intoned, a grin threatening to break through to her face, "to our world." A flick of a wrist summoned one of her couchmates. "Jess, show her around and prepare her, please. The rest of you," she admonished, a smile now well in evidence, "Quit staring, its rude." The girl named Jess replied, "Of course, Your Highness," and bowed deeply. 'Her Highness' patted Jess on the back as she left, sliding down into the pool nearest her couch. she had not even bothered to undress-then again, Mefora realised, she didn't have to. Save for the collar necklace she wore about her neck, she had nothing to take off. A look around showed this to be the case with much of the room-except for the collars (apparently a popular decoration) few wore anything at all, none anything substantial. A tug ssnapped her back to herself. Jess (herself dressed in little more than a panty) drew her away to a door behind some of the curtain walls. "C'mon, you need a makover," Jess told Mefora. "You mean I'm going to have to dress like that?" she asked incredulously. "You call this dressed?" giggled Jess. "That's my point. Do I have to?" Jess sighed. It was like this with every new girl. "You'll get used to it." Mefora shrugged. After all, everyone else had. Going through the door, they walked down a short tunnel and found themselves in a small, well appointed greenroom. A shower stall of fine crystal and gold trimming stood in one corner, and most of the remainder of the space was filled with an ordinary looking makeup counter. Mefora was struck by how unused everything looked. "It's everlasting," Jess explained patiently, when Mefora commented on this. "The stuff never comes off, and so we never use it, except for new girls. That other bunch in the main room is just for fun." With a quick, skilled hand, she began to apply it. As she finished, Mefora snuck a peek at the mirror and gasped-the girl there looked nothing like the Morwillian nobless that had entered the harem. That girl was an Empress, a queen, and, somehow, a whore. Her dirty blond hair was now the color of aubourn, her cheeks slightly flushed, her lips a deep, sensuous cherry color that perfectly matched her nails. "Now for this," said Jess, as she gently pinched Mefora on the shoulder. "Into the shower, girl." She laughed playfully. Still unsure of herself, Mefora undressed (Jess covered her eyes) and got in, turning on a flood of warm water and rosepetal scent. Jess gave her a minute, and then called through the door, "Ok, olive will be fine." "What?" asked Mefora "Here, I'll show you." With that, she opened the door and climbed in. "Hey!" exclaimed Mefora, startled. "What're you in here for?" "It'll just be a minute," Jess promised. Turning off the water, she began to work a measure of liquid from a pink bottle over Mefora's skin-''all of her skin. Mefora couldn't help but balk as Jess' hands slid along and around her breasts. "Is that nessecary?" she asked, as Jess finished her bosom and began to work down towards her abdomen. The older girl was quite focused on her task, and seemed to be taking a great deal of care to make sure that she got the dye to cover Mefora's entire person. Her answer was a bit more clipped than usual. "Yes. And, by the way, if you could give me a hand-" she indicated the bottle-"this would be a lot faster." "Is it really that important?" "You bet. It would look terrible if we were all different colors, right? The High Exalted One needs to look good in every way-and that means that ''we ''need to look good. C'mon, hurry up." At Jess' urgings, Mefora took a little of the stuff and gingerly began to rub it onto the folds around her entance. Jess herself had moved on to her back, and the sense of her finger tips sent goosebumps rippling down Meforahs spine time and again. She noticed and paused, whispering in Mefora's ear, "Hey! Loosen up, girl! It'll only be a minute more." Meforah could swear that she felt Jess kiss her as she said that. It wouldn't have been out of place. After the last of the dye was applyed to the space between her toes, Jess helped Mefora out of the shower. Both girls' clothes had been whisked away, as had the makeup, leaving the mirror sitting alone on the washstand. Jess pointed her to it and flicked on the bulbs that surrounded the glass. Mefora gasped. Her skin, formerly pale from the weak, cold sun of her home planet, had deepened to a rich olive tone, complimenting the aubourn mane that had somehow appeaqred out of her former brown locks. Cherry-red lips, dark eye-liner, and just a touch of blush completed the ensemble, all making for a girl that any Princeling would be ready to kill for. There was one thing missing, though. "Jess, what am I going to have to wear?" she asked. Despite the manner that they had conducted themselves with in the shower, Mefora liked her modesty, and the thought of wearing what some of those girls had been was more than a little sickening. Jess just laughed. "Here you go," she giggled, and pulled out a panel from the wall. It was hung with a number of different costumes, none of them remotely solid. Jess moved around to the other side of the rack and began to flick through them. Before long, she had made her descision. "This one," she muttered with conviction, and brought it over. It was a rich turquoise, and had been fassioned to look like seaweed, with curling tendrils that flashed with silver highlights when it moved. "Just in from Mon Calamari. It's supposed to be form fitting." said Jess as she pushed the shapeless mass into Meforas arms. Suprisingly, it felt not like seaweed but like smooth, light cloth. Mefora looked at it in suprise. "It feels a bit-" she broke off. The strands had come to life, and now twisted themselves around her, forming a comfortable and ''very revealing one-piece costume. She noted with relief that they had thought to cover her breasts (sort of) and the small triangle between her legs (less so). While this was happening, Jess had snapped open a drawer in the washstand and pulled out a pair of small, emerald-set earings, a sheaf of gold thread, and an anklet. The jewlery, Jess explained would not come off until it was told, and the costume would work in the same way. "And those are for?" Mefora asked. The thread still sat on top of the washstand, untouched. "Oh, right," cried Jess. "I forgot. Her Highness would have been furious." Pulling the threads loose a few at a time, she began to weave them into Mefora's hair, skilled fingers flitting back and forth. In a few minutes, the thread was gone. "Right, now that'll be permanent, just like..this," Jess said, holding up a metal collar. To Mefora's horror, it was irremovably affixed around her neck. "Jess, do I really ''need to wear that?" Mefora asked. Jess smiled. "Of course, it's the most important part! Don't worry, you'll soon treasure it," Jess answered. At least it seemed comfortable, and it's silver color matched her outfit. Jess beckoned her out of the makeup room. "Come on, I'll show you around." she invited. Moving self-conciously, Mefora went with her. This time, they did not re-enter the harem, but instead took a lift up to a floor that seemed to be entirely made of luxury bedrooms, each one seeming a mini-harem of it's own. Jess kept up a running comentary. "These are the private rooms, of course, for the important or experienced slaves. You may notice the name plates on the doors." Looking around, Mefora noticed seven bedrooms. Three on each side, and one at the end of the hall. That one had a golden name plate with ''Amanda engraved on it. One of the others had Jess. '' "Now, if we go down one floor-" they did-"we find the 'night rooms'. Part of our job is to chat up the people in court, and this is where we sleep if we are sucsessfull." "You mean that-" Mefora spluttered, horrified. "Yes. Get used to it-you ''really don't want to be the least bedded when inspection time comes." They entered the lift again. It stopped on a floor with dozens of closed, though probably comfortable, bed rooms. "These are where we sleep when we are not successful." The lift went down again. "We don't really have enough rooms for everyone, so either double up or sleep in-" Jess stepped out of the lift and flung the door at the end of the hall open. "-here!" They were back in the harem. Stepping out of the lift and opening the door, a chorus of cheering and congradulations greeted their arrival. "Good one, Jess!" "You've still got it!" "Her Highness will be astounded-forget The High Exalted One!" One girl in a pink and purple costume strode over and threw her arms about Jess. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, and kissed Jess full on the mouth. Jess responded with equal passion. Mefora goggled for a moment, and ten slipped away from the small crowd to wander among the harem's luxuries. Finding an unocupied corner of a pool, she slid in, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as the heated water enveloped her with a cloud of honey scent. Reaching behind her, she pulled a large globular fruit from a bowl and began to peel it. the Rind came away in a cloud of lemon-scented musk. "Wise descision," said someone. Mefora looked up to see a lithe blueish Twi'lek behind her, sliding ou t of the nets that made up her costume. She cast them aside and dropped naked into the pool beside Mefora, twitching her lekku with enjoyment. A small tinkling filled the air-the lek-tips had been pierced and hung with small bells. The human girl tugged away the last chunk of rind, pullingout the seed-pod with it and spraying a fine mist of juice into the air. Carefuly seperating a chunk of it, she popped it into her mouth, relishing in the explosion of sweetness on her tongue. "You'll need some relaxation. Everyone does after her intro." The Twi'lek stretched out on the bench beside her, modelling bare, sensual curves to the fullest extent. One taloned hand dipped into the water and came up holding something. "Yours?" "Oh, NO!" cried Mefora, dropping the fruit by the side of the pool. the limp mass in the alien's hand was her costume, now ruined. She grabbed it away, horrified-for no reason, as it turned out. The minute it touched her, the strands flew to life, wrapping about her limbs as if they had never come off. To make sure, she tugged on one. It unraveled, and the whole lot was set by the poolside. Reclaiming her snack, Mefora turned to the Twi'lek. "What were you saying?" "Everyone needs to settle in a bit. I only got here a few weeks ago myself, but it's not hard to get used to if you go with the flow," She pulled a handful of grapes from the bowl. "So, did they tell you about the games yet?" "What games?" "Oh, we have some friendly competitions now and then." She put an emphasis on the word friendly that made Mefora slightly suspicious, but she didn't say anything, just popped down the rest of the fruit. "By the way, I'm Yifa' toar. You?" The Twi'lek broke off, looking inquiringly at Mefora. "Mefora Arless. So-what goes on around here?" she asked. Yifa's answer was cut short by an explosion of cheering at the other end of the pool. "Come on," she said, "Race you there." The two girls took off, and swam rapidly to the far edge. A sort of contest had broken out amongst a dozen or so of the girls. standing around one of the couches, a masive scarlet one, two girls at a time would pull each other down onto it and try to keep a liplock for as long as possible without coming up for air. Yifa and Mefoa looked on in growing fascination as they watched some pairs go for nearly a minute wrapped up in each other. Mefora was shocked at how easily the girls here kissed other females, and with how much passion they did so with-thoughts that were unpleasently interupted by a strange sensation that suddenly flowed up her body. She wanted to do it too. '' With a start, she realised that Yifa had looped a braintail around her shoulders and was slowly rubbing her thigh. By way of response, she slid a hand along the Twi'leks back, a row of goosebumps exploding in its wake. Yifa turned and gave her a look that set off a storm inside Mefora's stomach, and before she knew it they had clambered out of the pool to join those milling about near the couch. In short order, the two of them were standing right at the edge of the 'playing area', and cheering with everyone else. A hand pressed into the small of her back, and Yifa whispered to her, "Come on, it's our turn!" They collapsed into the silken dunes, hugging each other tightly. Mefora pulled a sheet away from her face-and Yifa lunged forward from behind it. Their lips met, and she lost the ability to think of anything but the full form of the Twi'lek pressing into her stomach. sliding her tounge out, she met Yifa's halfway, the two doing a slow, delightful dance. It was an age before she remembered to breathe, and they broke apart, rolling off to the ecstatic squeals of the onlookers. Mefora, however, heard nothing but the thuder of her own heart. That was far too enjoyable for what it was. "That was amazing!" "A minute and a half!" "Best time all day!" "We won!" Yfa told her. "I shouldn't have liked that. I've never liked that. But I did. Why?" Mefora asked. Yifa grabbed her hand. "Come, I'll explain to you about your new life," she said. In one of the empty rooms upstairs, the two girls settled into a hot tub and Yifa started to talk. It was the same speech she herself had recieved upon her "initiation". "In this place, we don't conform to traditional standards. This is a life concerned with pleasure, the High Exalted One's first, ours next. It doesnt matter what we do-as long as someone enjoys it," she paused, "Thusly, you will instinctively enjoy whatever you do, whether or not you think you should. Its complicated but, well, you'll learn." "I hope I do soon," grumbled Mefora, "That felt too wierd." "Well, then.." said Yifa, and suddenly caught her up in a hug, pressing them hard together. Her hands slid along Meffora's back, and the costume dropped away, joining the Twi'lek's on the bottom of the pool. Their lips met, and then Mefora slid a hand downward along Yifa's stomach, feeling her full form. Yifa clamped one hand across the back of Meffora's head, the other across her backside, and they both disolved in bliss. After an hour of amazing pleasure, Mefora and Yifa finally relaxed. Mefora, however, still had some questions. "Look, Yiat, no one's really told me what my purpose is here. I don't know where I am, I don't know how long I'll be here, and I don't know who this High Exalted One is." Yfia stared at her. "How do you not know who your new master is? Didn't you see the massive palace on your way in? How many people do you think it could be?" "I don't know. I'm a Morwillian nobless who's only told about what happens on '''my' planet. I don't know what goes on elsewhere, though there are some strange rumors of late." "And what are these rumors?" Yifa asked. Mefora shrugged. "Just that the Empire has fallen and a new one has taken its place, nothing credible really," she said. Yifa leaned in. "And who rules this Empire?" Yifa questioned. "I don't know, my homeworld is very isolationist, but the rumors say he controls most of the galaxy, and that he's legally restarted the practice of slavery," Mefora answered. Yifa grinned. "Yes he has. We're living proof of it!" Mefora paled. "Jess said that, but I didn't want to believe it. Why? What did I do wrong?" she asked. Yifa shook her head. "It's not what you did wrong, it's what you did right. Your new master has judged you of high enough beauty and character to be his slave girl," she explained. "So who is your master?" Mefora asked impatiently. Yifa grinned. "Our 'master is the emperor himself, the ruler of the galaxy," she revealed. Mefora was stunned. "Why would someone like that be interested in me? For that matter, how did I even end up here?" Mefora cried. "You were probably captured during the scouting of your homeworld. It wasn't part of the last empire, so our master hasn't taken it yet. As for why he's interested in you, well.." Yifa said, stroking Mefora's breasts, "That should be obvious." Mefora didn't know how to react. She had never liked her planet or her family, but she doubted her new occupation would be better. She sighed, "So, Yifa, what is your..." Yifa shook her head.... "Our master like. What kind of man is he?" Mefora asked. "Well, Mefora, our master isn't a man, or a human, for that matter," Yifa said. Mefora was relieved. "So that means I won't have to spend the night with him," she breathed, but Yifa immediately contradicted her. "No, you will still have to pleasure him," she explained. Melina paled. "What species is he?" she asked, nervous. "Mefora, our master is...." Yifa didn't finish. "Who?" Mefora begged impatiently. "I can't say his name. I'm not worthy," Yifa said. "Just say it!" Mefora yelled. "Well, it is for the good of The High Exalted One, I guess I can spell it," Yifa offered. "J-A-B-B-A," Yifa began, saying one letter at a time, "T-H-E H-U-T-T," she finished. "What! I'm enslaved to a Hutt?" Mefora cried. "Well, obviously, as they're the only ones who ''can ''have slaves in the new galactic order," Yifa explained. "Listen Yifa, I'm an aristocrat, not a slave. Jabba can't just take me like this. Surely someone on my planet will come looking for me," Mefora protested. Yifa shook her head. "No, in fact, he's allowed to take any girl he wants, regardless of her status. As for someone coming for you, I doubt it. Your planet has been untouched so far, but I bet it's being captured right now," at Mefora's look of horror, Yifa quickly added, "But few innocents die during the Hutt invasions. Our mater just wants the entire galaxy to experience the prosperity his empire brings." "No! Yifa, I've seen a Hutt before when one visited my planet, they're the most vile things in the galaxy! I can't be enslaved by one!" Mefora protested. Yifa shook her head again. "Well, you are. Trust me, acceptance is always the first step in realzing your place." Mefora stared, this girl was nuts. "My..my place. What the hell are you talking about!" she demanded. "Well, what you will be for the rest of your life. You see...you are now a pleasure slave to The High Exlated One, who will serve him in any way he desires. You belong to The High Exalted One now," Yifa explained. Mefora could not accept this. "No, I will not stay here! Why did this happen to me? All I've done is good throughout my life and now I'm a slave to a disgusting Hutt. Why?" she begged. "No, Mefora. You've got this all wrong, you're a lucky girl. I know it's hard to believe, but being a slave here is an incredible expierence. You've seen the harem, you know how well we are treated here," Yifa began, but Mefora interupted her, "Yes, I believe that, though I don't know why. But Jabba is still a Hutt, a disgusting, evil, Hutt!" she said. "No, Mefora. You look upon our master as something to be reviled, but you couldn't be more wrong. Being a Hutt doesn't make him evil, it makes him a superior being. Hutts are far superior to any other species, and our master is the greatest of them all. You should be honored to serve him. He treats us very kindly, and in return we give him our loyalty," Yifa explained. Mefora started to protest, but Yifa cut her off. "I know what you're thinking, but pleasuring him isn't something to dread. after one night with him, you'll be praying every night that you are offered the chance to serve him alongside our Queen." When Mefora did not respond, Yifa continued, "I know it's hard to accept, but you'll enjoy this life. You've seen our amazing harem, you know how happy your sisters are. There are no drawbacks to this life!" Mefora finally replied, "Yes there is. Even if Jabba, the harem, and sex here are as wonderful as you say, there is still the loss of freedom, the loss to do as you please," Mefora countered. Yifa laughed. It wasn't a cold, sadistic laugh, but a sweet, amused laugh. "The thing about freedom? No one here misses it. Neither will you. You know the big harem door, that leads to the rest of the palace?" Yifa questioned. Mefora nodded. "Well, it's not locked. You know why? Because no one here wants to leave. There are twenty five girls here, and none of them prefer freedom to this. How can you refute that. You have been given the chance to be one of us and live a happy, care-free life. Embrace it!" Mefora considered this. Two dozen girls lived here, and all of them were happy. was it really possible? To give up her stressful life as am aristocrat and embrace a life of pleasure. Could she really become a slave. A happy, willing, slave; and enter a life of pleasure? If what Yifa said was true, it seemed to be an an attractive way of living. Yifa seemed to read her mind. "Yes. Join us. Accept your master's protection from a cold, hard galaxy. You know this is where you belong," Yifa said. Yifa began to lean forward. Her eyes were closed and her lips were pursed for a kiss. Mefora knew that, somehow, accepting that kiss would seal the deal. She would be accepting her life as a slave and embracing her passions, which had been repressed for twenty-two years during her life as an aristocrat. Time seem to slow as Mefora pursed her own lips and began to lean forward as well. How she wanted that kiss! Wanted to release her passions! They were interrupted by the door being pushed open. An entirely naked girl strode in, and beckoned them out of the pool. "Come on down, and quick. We are having a meeting," she said, then spun on her heel and strode out. Yifa scowled, but led Mefora out of the room and into the lift. She pushed the '1' button and the lift went down. As they came out of the lift, they were quickly drawn into a conference. The girl in the pick and purple costume who had kissed Jess earlier was adressing all the other girls. "Her Higness's birthday is tomorrow, so we need to think of some thing to celebr-" and the wall disappeared. Mefora never saw what happened next; a bolt of bue energy surrounded her and drew her towards the hole. The wall had not really dissappeard though, as much as was vaporised. A single starship hovered in its place, sucking the new girl in like a snack. As she disappeared inside, a man slowly strode out of it and leapt the two feet to the floor. He was wearing a suit of armor, like none of them had seen, and spoke in a low growl. "Tell your master he owes me something," he ordered, and returned to his ship. The thing's engines glowed, and it streaked up and away. One girl spoke. "Boba Fett!," she sounded shocked, and, as Yifa turned to her, fainted. ''Yifa'toar It had been three days scince the disasterous strike on the harem. While the wall had been rebuilt and the general spirit of things restored, the slaves had been seeing more and more problems around the palace. One of the pools had simply evaporated one night, leaving an empty hollow in the floor. The water had been replaced, but it was still unerving. The delivery of fresh fruits had been late. The court itself was uneasy, as if danger lurked everywhere. Of course, the biggest clue was the harem queen herself: she had come sobbing into the room one afternoon, long before the High Exalted One normally released her, and was finally convinced to tell the rest what had happened. In short, distraught bursts, she had revealed that the High Exalted One had forbade her to pleasure him, for fear of injuring her out of anger. The reactions amongst the girls had varied. Some sat as if expecting to be shot at any moment. Others went about with a forced air of cheer. Still others, such as Yifa, were simply too shocked to do much. Lying in one of the harem pools, she simply kept seeing the scene over and over, watching her friend disappear in a beam of blue light. So entranced was she by the memory that she didn't even notice her queen coming before she called out, "Girls! Listen up!" Looking around, she spotted Leia, who seemed quite happy about something. As her subjects gathered around her, she began to explain. "I have just been with the High Exalted One," she said, with obvious delight, "And he has asked us to help catch the usurper that attacked us and took one of our sisters. We are to spread word of much reward amongst the court and listen for any rumors we may, in addition to our duties. Are there any quesions?" No one raised their hand, and after a minute, the queen said, "Excellent. Lets' practise, then. We want to be in top form tonight." *********** The court reopened in grand style, with food, drinks, and spice in abundance, and some of the best routines that the girls had ever put on drawing wave after wave of applause. The musicians were likewise startling, and Jabba was quickly surrounded by many admiring courtiers. Inquiries about the closures were laughed away. Everything was fine, they were told. Yifa, thogh not dancing, did her best with the role she had been given. Clad in a shimmering, skin-tight layer of silvery cloth, she cozied her way around the visitors, keeping her ears open for any hint of the bounty hunter. However, her efforts were fruitless-the man had proven as elusive to the rest of the galaxy as he had to Jabba's hired army, and no one had seen him for months. This distressed Yifa greatly. She wanted her friend back. She was cozying up to a big, male Twi'lek, one of the mercenaries, when a shout of "SCILENCE!!" boomed from the throne. A tall being with six arms stepped to the center of the floor, and bowed low. "Mighty One, I have brought you the head of your enemy," it said, and unflodded one of its hands. The helmet it had been holding clattered to the floor, propmting shocked gasps from the girls. They had all seen it before. Jabba chuckled loudly, and then waved ot his henchmen. "Put it there," he ordered, poiting next to the plinth that had held Han Solo. The two gaurds bent for the helmet-and were suddenly blown back from it. Of it's own accord, the thing rose from the floor, and began to speak in a measured tone. "Hello, partner," it began, filling the title with scorn. "You still owe me. The harem was only the begining. If I do not recieve payment, more will follow. For instance..." a light on the visor flashed. Below the floor, the rancor's gate slid open and the beast fell out, sporting a massive black eye and clearly stunned. "And one more thing-if this had been a thermal detonator, you would be-" and at that point, one of the gaurds recovered enough to blast the thing out of the air. ********** The entire world of the harem had been thrown into dissarray. The girls hsd been told to avoid the main floor, the queen had adopted a distant, uninterested air toward everything, and the whole place seemed far too tense to be good. As such the day of the canyon races, unenclosed, massive pod races, couldn't seem to come soon enough. Begining on the fiftieth level of the palace, racers would maneuver the twenty kilometer course through the cities mountains and valleys of Nal Hutta at breathtaking speeds, drawing thousands of spectators, millions of credits in bets, and the very finest the racing world had to offer. Naturally, of course, Jabba would preside over all of this, and so his entire retinue of slaves accompanied him to the palace balcony when the day came. The girls had worked out a new routine to be performed before the races, and every slave was excited for the spectacular event. Walking toward the balcony, Yifa guessed what this was all about. Their dance would be a statement to the rest of the galaxy: We are enslaved by Jabba and love it. We are happy to serve him. He is an excellent master and an excellent emperor. Yifa didn't care though. What was the harm in sending an underlying statement if it was comletely true? As they emerged onto the platform, a quarter of a kilometer around, a roar of cheering greeted them. This was good. It signaled that the galaxy was beginning to accept the Hutt practice of owning slaves. and a spectacular light show began, provided by the force fields surrounding the big ferrocret slab. Huge floating stands had been set up all around the massive palace. It was beyond anything Yifa had ever imagined. The dance kicked off, and as expected, the girls were in top form. Every eye in the enormous crowd followed each move as it grew wilder and more suggestive, culminating in the Queen's solo performance, which had the crowd on its feet in the first five seconds. She danced around, beautiful, graceful, and intense. As she finished, Jabba called for scilence. his girls retreated to the throne. "Let the race..." he began. Engines flashed to life. Pit crews raced for cover. "BEGIN!" Jabba gestured. Yifa watched as the twenty-odd racers shot off-except one. One single pod caught an unstart, and, with a wild twist, came in at the bottom of the stands, aiming for the repulsorlift generators. It never arrived. In a blaze of laserfire, the pod disintegrated, and a small starship dropped down in front of the palace balcony. Its hatch opened, and two figures walked out-and, apparently, through the shields. The voice from the helmet boomed out. "In regard, Partner, for this mornings readjustment of assets, I have something to return to you." Yifa looked away from the starship. The two figures were from the harem. One was a girl she had known in passing, called Mara. The other... "Mefora! You're BACK!" she cried as the girls reached the throne. A massive group hug followed, and the race was toally forgotten. ''Len Marela'' How the harem entertains itself-and others. '' It was well after practice time, and so the girls were lounging in hot baths or on the couches, soaking up the harems luxury. They had finished entertaining the afternoon court, and now were enjoying each others' company in the usual manner. Len in particular was having fun. She had never been very good at the tickle game, but joined in with a will, generally to shriek with laughter as soon as her opponent reached her bare (then again, all of her was, for the most part) stomach. Due to her less-than-agile- build, she had never been much of a dancer (by the harem standard), but was easily the one of the most experienced pleasure slaves there. As she pulled away from yet another loss, gasping for air, Len rolled onto the floor and saw a pair of silk-slippered feet coming towards the couch. Standing, she caught sight of Amanda, the harem mistress, with a bemused look on her face. She watched for a moment, and then clapped for attention, bringing the game to a (sort of) halt. "Girls, we need to prepare for a rather special event," she began. "There is going to be a rather large convention of the more important beings in various fields in this Palace in a few months. It is indescribably important that we be ready to help our master make the best possible impression. He stands to lose or gain quite a bit here, so no slacking, from anyone." The harem quickly became a bustle of activity, but Len,being a pleasurer and not a dancer, mainly just sat by the side, until a tap on her head made her turn. Her friend, a young girl called Tina around the harem, was standing there. The two were easily the best pleasure pair in the palace, next to Leia and Amanda, and possibly Jess and Lyn Me, but Len and Tina were actually best friends, not just lovers. Besides, the other pairs were generally reserved for theHutts, and never had visitors come to them. "Want to 'practice'?" grinned Tina, pulling off her skimpy bikini. Len shot a smile back at her, and then tore her costume away and dragged her onto the futon. The two quickly spiralled into sensual bliss, and only dragged themelves apart to head to the pool. They had about five minutes of fun, and then were called out for a sort of roll call that took place before each performance. The girls would be told by their Queen who was to do what, and for how long. "Her Royal Highness!" the mistress, Amanda, called. The milling slaves immediately knelt, and Leia entered, dressed in her new silver, gem studded costume, which covered rather a lot less han it might have. The bottom half had been reduced to little more than a single triangle of silver with a massive ruby set in it, and the top was a thin band of twisting silver wire, supporting two elegant silver blossoms that had been festooned with rubies of their own. It was worth more than most beings had ever seen. She looked at the girls for a moment, and then began to speak. "Most of you already know your jobs, so this won't take too long. However, one more thing has just come up-the High Exalted One will be touring some of his holdings soon. as I and some others will be going with him-" she said this with obvious pride-"Amanda will be in charge for a week or so. Now, as for tonight, there is one small change from normal. Third and fourh shift dancers, you will be switching routines. I have decided it will look better on everyone," she gestured at the studio end, indicating that the two shifts in question should make sure they knew their new assignements. They did, of course-but practice never hurt anyone. "You will practice your new routines now," Amanda ordered, "Anything less than perfection will be met with consquences." Amanda then shook her head, as if to clear it. A weird look had appeared in her eyes, then it disappeared. "Right, you heard her," said Leia, though she eyed Amanda wearily. This wasn't like her. Len went over to watch the dancers practice. Throughout the whole erotic routine, Amanda stalked the edges of the mats. Every once and a while she would harshly criticize a dancer, with a wierd look in her eyes. Amanda constantly shook her head, as if to clear it. Len wondered-she had been like this briefly after the horrid kidnaping, but that had passed-right? Tina slid down onto her futon. "I'm beat. Want to go for a swim?" Len shook her head. "Tina, what's wrong with the Mistress?" "What? the way she's acting? Nerves," the other slave explained. As she talked, she slowly slid Len's bra up. Len flopped down against her, saying, "If so, I hope it's over soon. It's annoying," Tina slowly began to lick the now-exposed nipple, but paused to say, "Me too," before returning to her task. Len cupped a hand behind her head, and then slid the other between her legs, feeling the warmth there. She dug her fingers in lightly, noticing how Tina jerked when she did, and transfered her mouth to the other side of Lens chest. "OH!!" Lem squealed. Tina had hit some sort of sweet spot, and was flicking at it again and agian. By total reflex, Len balled her hands-and in doing so brought Tina over her brink, with Len following a second later. By the time the pair had resurfaced, they had to leave for court. In the throne room, the pleasure slaves were quickly 'deployed' throughout the side areas and bars, while the dancers had a final warm-up in a green room behind the throne. Len, working the right-hand side as usual, scored quickly-a large, muscular Corellian was standing there, and took an immediate interest. She was quite on her game, and soon had the man fetching her drinks for the evening-one of the perks of a pleasurer, but then, the dancers rarely seemed to need them. Before long, they retreated to a night room, and fell into the fullest koys of love before dropping into a warm, deep sleep. Len, at least, was satisfied-this was her job, after all, and she was happy to see it well done. She woke early the next morning, and left through the hidden door to the harem, her catch still asleep behind her. She slid into one of the pools, tossing her costume aside, and then slowly began to snack on some of the fruit in a nearby bowl, marveling at how quiet everything was, even though she could already hear some people moving about upstairs. Waiting for some of them to appear, she lay back, watching the fog that sometimes came into the harem from somewhere. The door opened, admitting three girls-a matched pair of Twi'leks, green, and wrapped in blue silk, and the harem mistress, pushing them along. At the same moment, the rest of the girls began to come downstairs-and were greeted by the sight of the mistress interrogating the two nonhumans, demanding to know where they had been going so early (This puzzled Len, as slaves could get up and go around however early they wanted to.) The Twi'leks claimed that they were just walking, but this didn't even come close to pacifying Amanda. "We're allowed to leave our rooms early, mistress!" a Twi'lek protested. Amanda scowled. "Wrong! You are slaves," she fired back. "We know that, and we are grateful for that, but our master's rules allow us to get up when we want," the other Twi'lek slave protested. "'MY rules do not!" Amanda spit at them. "But...." the Twi'lek protested. Len was really confused. Amanda knew Jabba was in charge, not her, and she had never disagreed with any of his rules before. "WHAT! You dare question my authority! I'll show you some disipline. I....what am I saying? What am I doing! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Stop it! Stop it! That's it. I'm going to my master, whether he will believe me or not! He will know of the return of Me.......Where was I? Ah yes, showing you slaves some respect. As punishment, you will...No! I don't want this! You can't make me do this! Mel.....First, you are banned from fruit for a month, then.....!" Amanda screamed. Len and her sisters watched in horror as Amanda argued with herself. She seemed ready to start again. "You slaves will....STOP! Plea......I will punish you....I won't, I ahhhhhh!" Amanda fell forward and collapsed onto the ground. In the doorway stood the Queen, looking at the rest of the harem in shock. Her helper, the girl called Mara, appeared to have stunned Amanda-from twenty feet away, and without a blaster. "What has been going on around here?" Leia demanded. "Amanda..." a slave began. "No, stop. I know," Leia interrupted. She seemed really distressed. "Mara, take her," Leia gestured to Amanda," To her room. I will speak to the High Exalted One. She's clearly suffering from something serious," she ordered. "Slaves! Your mistress is obvously very unwell. I know you all are concerned for her," began Leia. That was an understatement. The slaves were either hugging, crying, or both. They were really worried about Amanda. "But I am sure our master can cure her, whatever she has. Proceed with practice, if you are able," Leia finished. The Queen than dashed out of the harem, running towards the throne room. Immediately after, Mara turned and walked into the elevator. To the astonishment of the slaves, Amanda's unconscious body leviatated off the ground and followed her. Soon, the door closed and the two were out of sight. it was along time before anyone spoke. The Twins Ketoret Smaim Meet the one person in the harem who doesn't want to be there. '' If we must converse, call me Ket. My full name is just a bit too ardorous. Then again, I don't actually think we will, but one never knows. I am living proof of that. Had I known what would happen the day a silver-and-blue ship landed near my home, I would not be here. I come from the planet of Corus, on the lentrel swarm region of the galaxy. My family is not noble-however, we are something else. Only a few famillies have ever learned how to create compounds and elixirs correctly. Mine was one of them, and so even Jabba should feel lucky to have me here. My life is a monotonous one. I wake, I rekindle the inscence around this grand palace, and I spend the day doing what strikes my fancy. Time has no hold on me, nor do physical barriers-my skill with the Force see to that. To many others, I appear and disappear as if I am a ghost, or an image caused by my own compounds. While i am not free to go as i wish (for if I was I would be long gone,) I have other pleasures. Some from the compounding-not too much, of course, as the elixirs feed on emotion-but there are others. Like being able to tell off the ruler of a galaxy with utter impunity. Few fourteen year old boys have such a privilege. I wake in the morning with the resolve to do just that, at some point in the day. However, other things must be attended to first. I slip into my tunic and carefully fold the bedsheets (my rooms are small and spartan, and have no room for clutter) and then move to my desk-the one other furnishing there is. Seating myself, I carefully begin the final processing of the day's incense-a quick dip in a trio of potions, for a precise amount of time for each stick. Having spread the spice out to dry, I look about until i see my one friend-Meri. He used to be human, like me. In training, his elixir fouled, and he imbibed it unthinkingly-and his soul was transplanted into an animal we like to call a fuzzball, due to it's appearance. I'm sure you can understand. I made one last check of my room, seeing that everything was in order, and then left, packing the spice into my satchel. The fuzzball floated up onto my shoulder, sensing I was leaving. Meri is, regrettably, no longer sentient, and stays with me for comfort and safety. While I used to have no worries of being seen, as no one on this floor got up as early as me, that has changed. One lady-yes, there she was. Three doors down, red hair, up half an hour before her friends. A nuisance, if you ask me. I wait for her to get to a lift, and then move to kindle the first of the day's spice in the nearest brazier. I peel back the brown coating for an inch, and snap that piece off, carefully lighting it before sweeping the ashes of the night into an container. while it smolders, I snap the rest off the stick apart, arranging the pieces evenly in the bowl, and then sprinkle the powdered components over the lot. It bursts immediately into flame, but the flare subsides quickly, leaving a cloud of blue smoke that swirls around like it is a liquid. My friend starts to float close to the flame-I pull him away, putting him in my satchel pocket. He never did have much sense with compounds. Nodding at this one, I move along to the next brazier, and the next, until the Palace is full of heady fumes and the others in the building have begun to stir. Leaving them, I make for the throne room. Not directly, though. As well as being overseer of the incense, I have another job: vinter. The wine that Grand Emperor Jabba (a title of his own invention) drinks is literally toxic if brewed incorrectly-so I am employed to keep his spirits non-lethal (although it is tempting to slip, just a little. I must resist. Oh, well). I return to my quarters to collect the flasks that he has requested, and then leave for the throne room, my fuzzball at my side. Doors spring open for me, and I soon find myself outside the inner sanctum. With my power (one of its few uses) I ''look ''inside, and see him with another few of his ladies. With a sigh of exasperation, I send him a thought-''I'm waiting. I feel his annoyance at my attitude, but I do see him wave his hand, and the females peacefully drop into a deep sleep. Impressive, I must admit, but he'' has had the time to perfect it. ****** Mara was pushing at her Queen's back to get at Jabba's tail when it happened. Leia fell away from him, and she moved forward, mouth open-and saw a boy, no older than fifteen, in front of her, half in the wall, as it appeared, she had time to look questioningly at her god, and then blackness hit her, and she fell, still open mouthed, onto the dais. ******* I stride in, ignoring the angry gaze the Hutt fixed me with, and begin lighting the incense. He watches me as i go about the room, taking my time as usual, and finally breaks the silence as I move to refill the wine jugs. "Your planet remains obstinate," he rumbles, absently stroking one of the girls sleeping peacefully next to him. "Good," I shoot back, "You've got enough as it is." "What is it that will convince your people?" he inquires. I roll my eyes. We've been into this before. I set down the wine jug and give him a glance filled with all the contempt that my eternally teenage body can muster. "Nothing you've got," I turn back to my task, feeling a wave of fury on my back. I cap the dispenser to keep in the thick red fumes of the wine, and then pull a prepared packet from my bag as I turn back. Glaring angrily at him one more time, I spin on my heel, ignoring the anger washing over me, and storm out, pausing to snatch my fuzzball away from one of the braziers, where it had begun to settle in. Storming back to my rooms, I go to my desk and pull a small crystal computer from my pocket. It is Corusian, and works by a method so complex that even some of the Hutts don't understand it. Most Corusians don't either (myself included.) Firing it up, i call up a trio of molecular models. The first I know well-it is the same poison that I drop in the food and drink and air daily, the "immortality drug' that affects Hutts, their slaves, and the one who made it (which is, unfortunately, me.) I glance at it with disgust, and look to the next. This is something new, a creation of my own. In my drawer is a sample of it-I will test it tonight, when the slaves return. I do believe that jabba will be pleased, but for an unusual reason-this is an endorphinic, and will produce an unprecedented high. I really am proud of it. The third is my favorite-if immortality is poison, then this is a cure. It will negate the effects of the first near-instantly, and aging will resume as normal. I will not use it yet-but neither will I forget it. Everything has a time. ***** Two or so hours later, I test my newest concoction. I wait by the lifts on the top floor, until a trio of people stagger from one, towards one of the rooms. One has a long chain hanging from her. I toss the smouldering packet in after them, stepping on the chain out of spite until I hear a thud to indicate that someone tripped. I wait a few minutes more, and then hear an explosion of laughter. I can feel clearly the emotions in the room ramping to unthought of levels. with a small smile, I spin on my heel and leave. Returning to my quarters, i am greeted by a small bleep from my computer crystal. It shows me the feeds from a dozen different cameras-and then zooms in on the one i was hoping to see. A twelve second clip plays over and over. My heart freezes as I see it. ***** Corusian twins, you see, are symbiotes, formed through a complex bonding as opposed to birth. If one is too far way, the pair will go into a deep depression, becoming sluggard and unhappy-but, when 'within range', they will both instantly become better by far at whatever they are doing. As such, it is only natural that an intense friendship grow between them. That is the reason, really, that I am here-my twin, for an unknown reason, volunteered herself as a harem servant, and I, reluctantly enough, followed. Here, on my screen, I have finally located where she is kept-the one secret that I have not yet been able to penetrate. My stay is now looking very short indeed. One more thing, though, before this new discovery overwhelms me. I am not, as I thought, the only ghost here. The girl who lives in room one now prowls the halls, in a most disconcerting fashion. Of course, this will all be in the past soon anyway, so I don't really care. Achoti K'tana I lie in my cell, unsure of anything but what i can see. It has been nearly two days (I think) since i was called on to serve, and though the robot that delivers my meals is always punctual, I fear I may have been forgotten-the worst fate of all. In vain, I try to remember how long it has been since the silver ship whisked me away to my new, greatly improved life. Perhaps a year-perhaps a hundred. The process of getting here was just so muddled in my head. I do not know where or when or why or how I am. I know who-Achoti K'tana of Corus. and I know what- a personal pleasure slave to the most graceful woman I have ever met. Beyond that-nothing. My life is a cycle of disconcerting normality and unspeakable depravity. I might casually enjoy a drink with the same woman who, two hours later, will force me to endure sexual torments of all kinds while she stands by and laughs. Though I cannot imagine why, I have been confined to a tiny cell in a massive fortress for unknown crimes, and yet, that cell is more opulent than many palace throne rooms. Reality has deserted this place, leaving me behind. If one thing keeps me from entirely losing my mind here, it is this: Ket, my twin. I can feel him, though faintly. It is his presence that gives me the strength to survive and think, and I hope mine is doing such a great favor to him. I suspect that he is the reason I am segregated-but then again, it is unlikely. After all, Jabba couldn't know about us. Right? I am still unaware, really, on why I cannot be like the girls I heard about, the ones that moved me to come here. Even my Queen, Mara, tells of wonderful days and nights in a glorious, utopian palace, but my room is all that I have ever seen. Her explanation is similarly confusing: "It is not for me to say," she had told me. This is, to say the least, not what I thought would be said. However, my musings are interrupted by the arrival of the queen, happier by far than when she had left. Seating herself next to me and giving me a quick kiss, she tells of how some friend or other has returned safely, how troubled she is that I will not be able to meet her, and so on. I listen with half an ear, not because it is not interesting, but because the Queen has slowly began to tantalize my entrance with her other hand and I am holding back a sigh of ecstasy. This happens regularly-the queen knows that I hate containing myself, and freely admits to using me for a sense of dominance. It is enjoyable-but very thoroughly annoying. Ketoret Samim. Today, I escape. I carefully pack the necessities into my satchel and depart an hour before my normal time, hoping to leave before anyone-even the Nuisance from room five-is awake. Stealing out of my room and down the hall, I move to the door of room one, and then pause, feeling for life-none, only a lingering sensation of pleasure. I push through the door, and then move swiftly to the other side, touching a concealed switch-and a secret door (how original) opens. A lift pad floats up to me, but I am stopped from getting on by an unprecedented blast of emotion from Achoti. When my vision clears, the lift is gone. ******** The Queen and i have had an enjoyable night, if not a very fulfilling one. The Queen came in and immediately started into a new brand of torment, that of denial. For what seemed like an age she simply stood me in front of her, lightly running her fingertips along my body. Then, as I am beginning to feel faint with the exertion of holding back, she stands up, twines her legs around mine, and kissed me. It was fun, but only she got to come. To tell the truth, even with my groin burning, I was distracted by something-I could feel Ket, coming closer than ever. Licking my mistress's nectar from her crotch, I am still trying to contact him, to tell him not to take me. My life is perfect as it is. I live to serve my Queen. ********* Ketoret Samim. Resistance. The last thing I need-or, in fact expected. If I read the signals she is giving off correctly, my twin cannot believe in a more fulfilling life than the one she has. I sit moodily in my chamber, toying with my fuzzball and wondering how in the world I will get around this blockade. I can't simply force her-the strain on our mentality would be too great. Still, there must be a way into her warped mind- It hits me like a thunderbolt. I know, with sudden certainty, what I will do, and quickly begin to lay my plans. This won't be easy, but it will be quite rewarding-and maybe even fun. ********** Achoti K'tana My queen is in a truly demonic mood. Her expertise leaves me tired and powerless to resist as she coaxes one dizzying orgasm after another. I scream for relief-and she laughs, a light, happy sound. In almost any other circumstance, her joy would make me feel good-but at this point, all I feel I truly drained, and relieved when she finally looses the straps and turns to go, waving a cheery goodnight to me. Presumably she is going to sleep with her own master. I am too tired to care. I hear the lift open with a whoosh-and then the queen screams. Galvanized, I turn over and see- "KET! NO!!" he ignores me, swinging his arm in a swift right hook. The queen drops. I throw my entire mental weight against him, trying to hold him back. I know why he came-to tear my life from its path. all my resistance, though, is useless-my mind is weak from the endless pleasure and intoxication of the last few weeks. He plows closer, step by step, until we are forehead to forehead. He pulls something from his pocket and slaps it on my shoulder-and we both fall, drained. Ketoret Samim The fatigue of fighting my twin wears off quickly-at least, for me. Knowing that she would not appreciate a rescue, i had placed a stimulant in my mouth against just such an occasion, and now I bit on it, giving my self a new rush of energy. The triscopine compound on Achoti's arm is leaking a clear fluid-a sign that it is working. The poltuice's contents are the same thing that I use in my Cloudrider joints, only more concentrated. When she wakes up, I'll be surprised if she remembers who she is. Luckily, though, I found a way to tell her, quickly. But, as she is still asleep, I have other things to do. Pulling the unconscious girl from the doorway, I secure her into a set of thick black straps that hang from a wooden frame-they seem to have been made as some sort of restraint, and so should hold long enough. I have barely finished when I hear stirring behind me-Achoti slowly clambers to her feet, gazing around with a blank stare. I reach into my bag pulling from it my crystal computer. It has on it an imprint of what she was like before we got here, constructed from my own memories. I carefully tape two electrode pads to her temples and then press her against the wall to hold her in place. There is no resistance-she does not realize anything is wrong. I slide one crystal facet and hope for the best. Achoti K'tana I blink in surprise. for some reason, I am naked, lying on the floor of what looks like part plush hotel, part torture chamber. A boy is standing nearby, coiling wire into a leather pouch. Next to me, a woman with an impossibly striking figure is in a similar state. "Boy? Who are you?" I ask. For answer, he simply pulls me to my feet, and, absurd as it sounds, we rise through the ceiling, yards of rock, and into a room bigger and just as fancy as the last. I decide to rephrase the question. "What are you?" "A ghost. So are you. We need fear nothing from the living. Come along." I follow, only for lack of a better option. Ketoret Samim Her mind was too warped from pleasure and compound to repair-I amputated at the memory. To coin a phrase, 'I'll give you this one.' The fact was that my twin was not mentally capable of anything save the few neural commands that the compounds had left-everything else was a mess of confused signals in the cortex. I had decided on the most efficient solution-a powerful crystallate that simply eliminated the memory, right down to where she remembered her need for various things-compounds, intercourse, and so on. Fun to watch, but it felt to me like getting hit with a ton of bricks. unpleasant is flat-out the wrong word. At this point, we were creeping down the hallway towards the lift that would deliver us to the ground floor and freedom. I had mixed something mildly unusual into the compounds this morning, so the blank stares on the faces of all and sundry when the doors opened were not really a surprise. We left the room, and, following my mental map, I dragged Achoti a dozen meters down the left-hand hall before stopping and pressing my crystal against her head. It was preloaded with a new mind, cloned from my own-with a few necessary modifications, of course. The way that we got into the hangar bay should have alerted me-which is to say, nothing happened. The small, hatchless ship was still there, fully fueled, provisioned, and (to my great surprise) responsive to the same commands. It opened on the first pulse from my mind, and I pushed inside, forcing Achoti ahead and sealing the door behind us. By the time we arrived at the cockpit, the ship had already started it's liftoff sequence, as if it knew what I wanted. i took the helm, directing Achoti into another seat on the side of the cabin. With a few touches, I brought the ships nose around and prepared, at long last to leave forever. achoti K'tana Our acceleration and Ket's euphoria rose as one, the combined effects of them literally taking my breath away. still panting, i made my way to the cockpit, finding him looking at the controls in an amazed, delighted way. "Achoti, this thing is alive. just look at it! it responds to thoughts, touch, words-" "Ket?" I felt a snatch of trepidation from him. "What?" "Can you explain something?" Ketoret Samim I felt a n odd sensation-a mix of curiosity and fear-from my twin. "What?" "what in the name of every sun has been going on for the past few years?" Both tone and voice indicated how little she really wanted to know-but she would know if I was lying. so I launched into the story. "Some years ago, we were contracted out from Corus as workers, professionals in our fields, to the ruler of that palace. we were both given distinct jobs-mine, the one of releasing certain compounds into the air daily. Yours, the one of giving another slave the ego she needed to be useful. Somehow, the rulers of Corus failed to request why we were not returned. It was quite simple. we had been separated. You were secreted away-effectively trapping-" proximity sirens promptly began blasting. Achoti K'tana Ket lunged for the front, yelling something at the ship. I couldn't hear him over the sirens, but I could feel what was happening-we were under attack. Ket slapped a switch on one of the panels, turning the sirens off and spat out a single word. "Interceptors!" With that word came a host of feelings that i really didn't want to feel. ***** Ketoret Samim The fear coiling in my stomach was something I hadn't felt in a long time. These things were none of Jabba's cronies-for the one thing, they couldn't possibly have gotten here so fast. for another, i wasn't afraid of him. No, the dots closing fast from bow and stern were Corusian interceptors, small and sleek and ready to fight, with weapons that this ship could only dream of. Like, say, a qualified pilot. Two tractor beams latched onto the graceful curves of the ship, and a third slapped against the engines, sucking the drive exhaust out and depriving it of thrust. A loud impact sounded on the hull and a voice began to vibrate in from the sonic sucker anchored onto my starboard wing. "Cut power immediately. Repeat, cut power or you will be considered hostile and engaged." Customs officers. Pompous anywhere, no more so than when they have just caught you at something. Now, had I been a better pilot in a ship that almost certainly carried every advancement a lot of money could buy, I would have run. I may even have been able to escape. But with only half my mind available, the other half fighting off Achoti's rising fear, that was impossible. I killed the engines, and sat back to wait. Achoti K'tana Ket was leaning back in one of the bridge chairs when the ship ripped open. There was no noise, no warning, just the side of the ship rolling back to make a door in the wall. A young woman came through, dressed in a sleek black outfit with a helmet under her arm and a large weapon of some sort in her other hand. Four more behind her were dressed the same, but with the helmets on. Ket rose fluidly spreading his hands. I could feel him forcing my nervousness away, radiating calm. I tried to do the same. Not very successfully, but I did try. The new arrival had a dark complexion, straight black hair, and a nice sort of voice except that it was full of arrogant authority. "And just what is this?" she demanded. "A vessel of the Hutt empire, violating our sector with no leave, possessed of technology that cannot possibly be peaceful-" Ket held up a hand. "My dear officer, if you will allow me. We are but fleeing the same Hutt empire of which you have spoken-" "Or bringing them down on us!" The officer was joined now by more soldiers, larger men and women in a white uniform with gold piping on the sides. Stunner were being drawn from holsters as the argument escalated. "well, that's a stupid way of trying to prove yourself. They were shooting at us!" "Why in the name of any star should I believe that!" demanded the officer. Ket was about to yell back, but the woman made a short, slashing gesture. "This, you may rest assured is far from over." She turned on her heel, snapping at the rest of the guards. "Bring them on board. We shall continue the inquiries in a more formal manner-and after any pursuit has been dealt with." ***** Jabba was in a rage again, shouting at the holophone as the Corusian official tried to explain their system's position. Leia and a newer girl a human with eyes of deepest blue and a waterfall of white hair, fondled each other lazily as the one-sided conversation carried on. "You will return them both! At once! No amount of living asteroids or your blasted superweapons will be enough to stop me!" Jabba slammed a fist against his throne, yanking his girl's chains. The official held up a hand in a soothing gesture. "Please, sir, hear me out," she began. "corus will naturally be only too willing to help enforce the contract that this pair was operating under should you but produce the nescessary documentation and fees-" "Documentation?" thundered Jabba. "I'll be documenting the demise of Corus if this keeps on any longer!" Leia giggled at the look on the official's face, the sound becoming a squeal as the other girl slid a hand under her bra and pinched. "Really, there's no need for all that.corus takes it's trades seriously, sir, and should you elect to be reasonable, there will be no need for further altercation. A small surcharge for the expenses incurred by our customs agents-" The call broke up as Jabba swept the machine against the wall, spraying shattered metal accross the room. The two girls ducked aside in fear, trying to cover their bodies from the shards. Not even their costumes remained to protect them - Leia had given back far more than she got. "People," rumbled Jabba, fuming. A slender hand carresed his cheek, and the anger was suddenly replaced by lust as a lithe human form pressed itself against his paunch. "Think of some other people, master," Leia whispered, the new girl sidling up to the other side of their master. Jabba chuckled good-naturedly and let them take his mind off of things. ****** Ketoret Samim - ''One week later. We were back.After all the shouting, the running and skyjacking and being chased down by the living, power-sucking asteroids that kept Corus safe from even the Hutt fleet, after the madcap negotiating and the medical equivalent of a scorched-earth approach to getting Achoti's mind back into working order, we were back on Tatooine, our chance at freedom ruined by a mass of bureaucracy and the Corusian bent for honoring contracts. For all his threats, Jabba had eventually made do with cash. Our freedom had cost him three hundred twenty seven credits, plus taxes and expenses. CorusCustoms simply gave us back. Strangely, it's not that bad. I'm doing what I like, I guess. Making spice, and using it, caring for my fluffball, trying to figure out how to age. Achoti is back to her old job as well - the outlet for MAra Jade, Jabba's favorite assassin, when she comes back from anything particularly dangerous. She satisfy's Mara with her body and keeps me happy with her mind, pulsing out her pleasure as strongly as possible until I feel good about this place too. Could I have been more, done more? Maybe. But I'm immortal. There's no rush. Nothing urgent. No rush at all, Ket. MMMM, yes. Yes, oh please, yes. No, No! Don't stop... Well, nothing urgent for me, at least. ''Biat Zenut'' It was the policy of many years so far that girls must not only be forced to remain in the Harem, but also have no desire to do otherwise. While a wide variety of devices were in place to achieve that goal, it would always be the renowned Amanda who had come up with the first truly workable solution. The idea had come to her some time before the arrival of Leia and her instatement as queen, as she talked with one of the girls who had only recently began to be docile enough to serve as a girl in the court, a young but very attractive human by the name of Biat Zenut. ***** Biat was the sort of girl who one could only describe as exotic. Captured by a tributary gang and brought to the palace to gain favour, she had skin that was only just darker than olive, appealing eyes, and silky hair that fell like a curtain around a body full of sensual, almost exaggerated curves. She had gone into the 'entertaining' buisiness out of choice, too, unlike the majority of her peers; it was only later that a combination of money, drugs, and mind-wiping technology had rendered her a prisoner of her employer. She had clearly been taught the intricaices of seduction as well as dancing-Amanda noticed a posture and look that spoke very much towards someone who lived in expectation of a come-on, and actively encouraged them. All of which, in fairness, made her totally unpreparede for her first actuall interaction with the girl. The usual disinfectant procedure, administered by droids, had left her shivering and bare even of the few skintight articles she had been wearing when she was introduced. Amanda, dressed to the nines in the "Harem Mistress" costume of pink silk that she liked to wear for these sorts of things, had come to batheand outfit her. "Well, young lady," she had begun, "you do seem to have survived a purge well enough. Stand." Ordinarilly, this sort of command, coupled with the subjects disorientation and fear, produced compliance. "Screw off." Amanda was instantly thankfull that she had been behind the girl when she heard that-it helped hide her shock at the insult. She carefully composed herself, then continued a slow circuit of the girl crouched on the floor, making it halfway around before smacking her on the cheek and knocking her sprawling. "Disobedience, wretch?" she asked, in a low, sultry tone. Amanda always felt guilty about using it-it came from her own initiation, from the reign of Carniss. Still, she found it useful in getting the newcomers to know their place. "You will find that is looked on quite poorley around here." Reaching down, she grabbed a sculpted arm, hauling the other girl to her feet and giving her a quick, neutral glance up and down. "Very nice," Amanda whispered, tracing a finger from breasts to navel. Sliding behind the new girl, she snuggled the gracefuly arced back into her stomach, sliding her arms up beneath Biat's shoulders. Biat's hands, quite as Amanda had wanted, wound up twisted behind her back, well away from what they were trying to do-cover the rest of her body from Amanda's interested examination. "Ripe, too," she whispered, running a palm over Biat's pubic mound. The soft, dark flesh quivered and Biat squirmed just a little more, but the next second She had moved on to touch Biat's heaving bosom, testing each nipple gently with a thumb and fondling the thick, pronounced swelling of the rest. Once again, she announced her approval. "Quite a morsel, you are." Amanda stepped back, feeling the smooth and muscular surface of Biat's back, following the perfect S-curve from neck down to the toned buttocks, tightened in aprehensionand fear. "A natural." Biat leapt in pain at the sharp slap that had landed on her rear. Amanda giggled demonically and used the other girl's disorientation to pull her from the room through a second door, one that lead to a massive, airy room. Amanda burried her feelings at treating a girl this poorly under a firm resolution that she would not give her master a girl with that much disrespect left in her and threw Biat to the thickly carpeted floor, clapping her hands for attention. Biat had a glimpse of silk hangings and a number of other girls in a similar state of dress to herself before Amanda hauled her up again. "This, sisters, is Biat. She awaits our master's pleasure and yoke. Kindly do not allow her to forget it." BAmanda ran a finger along her captive's cheek and was rewarded with a viscous snap of teeth at the perfectly manicured nail. The harem mistress drew back in alarm - and Biat, with a sudden heave, was escaped, off and running for the massive, ornate doors she had spotted to the right. Amanda didn't even have time to yell. Nor did she need to., A sleek, coal-skinned girl wearing nothing but thin chains launched after her, taking two elegant, almost leisurely steps with all the grace of a dancer and caught up to Biat's stumbling sprint, looping a gentle arm around her shoulders and then sliding a leg inf front of the fleeing girl's. Biat and the chain girl hit the floor as one, rolling over and over until they came untangled. Biat got up, but by this time was caught instantly by two or three other girls and pinned solidly to the floor. Staring helplessly at the vaulted cieling, it was all she could do not to sob when Amanda's face came into view. "Excellent, Suplos. A fine example." Amanda lowered a foot against Biat's chest, fondling her breasts with red-painted toes and then crushing Biat against the floor. "But something a bit more permanent will be needed until the master is ready for her." ***** Amanda's ominous statement, calculated to induce fear and based once again on the nightmare of her own induction to harem life, was actually carried out in such a way that most of the girls were left giggling at Biat's distress. For some time, the harem girls had made a game of tickling or stroking one another's bare and oiled bodies, trying to last the longest with the least reaction. for just this purpose, certain places in the harem had been outfitted with restraints to keep a girl flat out - nothing fancy, just thick straps that would fit at the neck, forearms, waist and shins. At Amanda's direction, Biat was dragged to the nearest set and secured inside, with two girls ordered to watch her- and, as Amanda added with a mockingly light caress against her exposed crotch, "Feel free to amuse themselves as well." Biat, held firmly by the shackles, watched the harem mistress leave with a stride practiced for seduction, her hips swaying in a manner that would have been hard to resist had she been fully clothed. Biat grimaced at the arousal she felt from the sight. One of her wardens, green skinned and with two Rylothean braintails dangling suggestively across he shoulders, leaned in over her. "She's a dish to look at, no?" The girl flashed a brief smile at her, seductive and with a touch of the feral in her sharp Twi'lek teeth. The other, also Twi'lek but of a reddish hue, traced a claw along Biat's stomach, watching her shudder from the ticklish feel. "Too bad, right? Such a fine form, and still Jess is the only one that gets to touch it. she'd be a dream to have a fling with. " The claw inscribed circles around Biat's navel. "Not that you won't, if this here's anything to judge by." She spasmed her hand briefly, causing Biat to jerk in response to the sudden, unexpected sensation. The other girl snorted with laughter, then shoved her friend aside. "Oh, please. Thats not how you do it." She assumed a position straddling Biat, leaning her torso down s that their chests tuched. Biat felt the firmness f the Twi'lek's cleavage on her own,watched the other girls breasts force hers aside as she pressed her smooth, warm body down close and firm against Biat's own struggling form. A sft, suggestive hand began to explore her contours, from buttocks to shoulder, while the smal mewls of protests that Biat made were drowned in a full-mouthed, airtight kiss. Biat, pinned and on the bverge of sensory overload, focused n the futile exercise of trying to breath. Suddenly, the red Twi'lek's muth was muffling outright screaming from biat, her legs and elbows clamping them together even more firmly than before as she tried to keep the human girl still. As her sharp talons had reached the hypersensitive skin below Biat's arms, the Twi'lek had dug them in, tickling the human girl ruthlessly into a fit f shrieking, mindless agony. It was nearly half a minute before she arose, still curled seductively around Biat's hips, one claw stroking the new girl's pubic mound. "Now you try," she said, waving at her comrade. Biat braced herself. ***** Night, or at least what passed for it. The lights in the harem were out, but only because no one else was there - the girls had been summoned off to entertain the guests, leaving Biat, disshelved and chained, to lie in her own fluids on the floor. Still, her mind raced, trying to think of a way out. An idea had grown in her head as the two Twi'leks toyed with her, and there would never be a better time to try it. Pressing her wrist firmly against the floor, she began to rotate her arm within the manacle, coating her skin in the mixture if water, lubricant, and other fluids accumulated around her. Combined with her own natural flexibility, the mixture made her able to squeeze a wrist tightly enough to get it free. Biat lost most of the skin on that hand in the process but couldn't care less. With three motions she had freed her other arm. Springing upright, she considered darting straight out the door, but refrained, instead moving towards the room the others had went to when Amanda had yelled 'Shower up, girls!' If she was to run, she would run clean. Washed, smelling of rose soap and in the most modest costume that she could find on a rack that stood ready for the girls to use (a transparent black silk leotard with and open crotch and bodice, as well as body paint and a variety of earrings and necklaces) Biat stole out the door, finding herself in a rough stone hall. She moved with light steps, ears straining for anything that would let her get ahead of pursuit. Nothing, save the sounds of far-off revelry. She spotted a guard box, empty, nearby. Nothing inside save a canteen of water, not even a map. Biat moved on, nerves tense to the breaking point. She was in a stairwell, a long and spiraling one that seemed utterly too esoteric in design for the decadence surrounding it, when a shadow on the wall and the sound of approaching feet made her nearly faint with fright. Scanning her surroundings quickly, she spotted something, a hope in a place where she had stopped expecting any: a small, out of the way door, standing just a breadth open. Almost before she had finished realizing that it was there she was through it, slapping at the red operator button nearby. The voices of two patrolling officers and her mistresses cruel drawl passed by at the same instant. "If I had to take a guess," said a soft, amicable tone close behind her, "I'd say you were running away from something." Biat froze solid as the light in the room she had bolted into slowly increased, revealing the sculpted and indescribably handsome shape of a young man nearby, stark naked and wearing a collar of much the same design as she did. He was grinning and had a slightly quizzical look about him. Biat started to be afraid that he would force her and found her thoughts of rape skidding to a halt as she realized that he was chained to his cot by the throat and wrists. "A male love slave?" she guessed, staying back. The man burst out laughing. "I assure you, accommodations and uniform like this don't come with being on Jabba's honor guard." He grinned quickly, then in a single smooth motion was on his knees before her, head touching her feet. "Your humble slave, ma'am. Please be gentle." "My-What? No, stop it, get up." In a flash, he was on his feet again, wrists crossed behind his back. Biat folded her arms. "What was all that?" "Training, ma'am. How I am to greet my visitors. That one is not a dancing girl needn't mean one lacks the respect due to superior." It was clipped, practiced. More training, thought Biat, the kind that had probably awaited her had she stayed to let Amanda have her way. "You're a slave?" she asked softly, stepping carefully forward. His arms stayed behind him, chains stretched to their limit. "Yes. A pleasure slave for the desires of Jabba's esteemed guests, should they have need of such services." His posture may have been set in stone, fo all that it moved. Biat thought for a second. "Can we sit down?" she asked, allowing her voice to become just a tad suggestive. he gracefully folded onto the edge of his bed, shackles clanking. "I'm - a consort. A sort of wife, I guess, companio for Ja- For one of Jabba's guests. He seems to have taken offence at something my friend said, So I ran," Mercifully, the man did not try and look her in the eyes - it was a hasty lie, the kind Biat had never been good at. "I just need to get away from them, until things calm down a bit. Until the blaster fire stops." She waved a hand at the room. "Can I-" "Certaintly, ma'am. Stay as long as you wish. If I might be of service, you need only say the word." ***** Amanda had left early, her duties as the harem mistress calling her away from the dancing and revelry. Hers was the often-overlooked task of finding rooms for the more respected guests, a task that would be far easier if she had a datapad; the Master, though, wouldn't allow it, for some reason of his own. Instead, the pink-clad mistress would nightly memorize which girls she had dispatched to entice who, which had been kep as dancers, loaned out, made to clean. Moving freely about the dusty halls, she kept the lists in her head and a look of superiority that queens would envy on her face, disouraging guards and guests alike form molesing her with a gaze of refined scorn. Naturally, she knew the way to the rooms by heart, and her light, drifting pace carried her there almost of her own accord. With practiced ease, she portioned the accomadations out by species, sex, and number of escorts each guest had been assigned. Each room recievd a careful inspection to ascertain it's readiness; small servant droids were parked nearby and sent scurrying when somethng was amiss. Presently, ann oddity caught her eye - a ray of light from the opposite coridor, the one that hel female guests of distinction. A door had been left open. Although not their mistress, Amanda knew enough of the male slaves not to be overly concerned about one - they were restrained, for one thing, far more than any slave girl ever needed. Their taining was - different - as well. More forceful. Curious, she moved closer, tiptoeing until she could see in the door. Biat, the new girl. She had escaped after all, it seemed. One of the males lay prostrate beroe her, caressing her foot with his tounge. Biat's other legs gently fondled his crotch; as Amanda watched, a thick smear of fluid appeared on it. Biat giggled, nudging her partner. "You're not very good at controling yourself, are you?" she teased. As the man atempted to answer, she pressed her heel down on his mouth, turning whatever he was trying to say into a spluttering choke and making Biat laugh even harder. "Come on," she said playfully, pulling herself off him. "Let's try something else." Biat disappeared momentarily, allowing Amanda a brief lance at the way she had clipped the man's collar and leg irons to a ring in the floor, but left his hands free. Intruiging concept. I wonder how she got the idea... Biat was back, moving with a sensual sway that made Amanda catch her breath. A natural. ''Her harem costume was gone now, revealing the same glistenin body that had given the Harem mistress such high hopes; With a fluid motion, she dopped to her hands and knees, straddling the slave on the floor, her lips just barely brushing his stiffened member. Amanda heard the lick of a tounge and a groan of desire that she knew full well. "Mmm, like it?" Biat hissed. Moving slowly, she crawled forward, her breasts pressing against his body, kissing and licking her way to his neck. Amanda watched her expertly repeat the light kiss with her nether lips as well, the slave straining against his bonds. Biat had clipped his wirst shackles to his colllar, allowing her to move frely upwards. She rested her cleavage firlmy against his face, pressing it down with her hands. The male's groans suddenly became more pronounced, his straining more urent. Amanda had a good guess why - Biat was suffocating him. Biat, it seemed, knew this as well, and pulled away suddenly, leaving him gasping. She looked behind her, running a delicate hand across his engorged genitals. "You ''are ''having fun," she teased. "Good." With a quick buck of her hips, she slid forward yet again, settling her pudena firmly aginst his mouth, lacing her hands under his head to hold him in place. Amanda, who had become aroused without even realising it, climaxed at the same moment as the new girl, biting her lipto keep quiet. With a satisfied sigh, Biat rolled off her partner, smilling lazily at him. "Wow. That was - amazing." she patted his hair softly, reaching to unclip the chains. "Go clean up, will you?" "Ma'am, please..." he groaned. Biat looked nonplussed for a second, then burst out laguhing again. "Oh, right," she said, trying to suppress her mirth. Her hand sopped an inch from the clip holding his wrists at shoulder level. instead moving down to his croch. Amanda watched in amazement as Biat looked the man dead in the eye, licked her finger in a long, sensual motion, and give his member a single, slow tap. "Clean that up too, she said coyly, pointing to the small puddle on the floor. The man nodded, his face red. "Yes, ma'am." Biat freed his hands and he vanished into a side cubicle. The girl sighed briefly and began putting on her costume again, wondering how she could leave knowing that this kind of pleasure was to be had here. Perhaps she would be able to sneak back in sometime as a courtier. Still, she wanted here freedom. She knew it. The door was flung open. ***** ''Two months later Amanda nodded approvingly as Biat finished her last step. "Improving," she ruled. "Once more, I think." Biat set into the routine again with a will. Her already smooth build had been improved with practice, and she was a quick learner. Amanda gave a nod as she finished and sauntered off; he girl had made things even easier than she thought. The doors to the harme were now unlocked, the girls sometimes unchained. No, the only bonds Amanda now needed to keep the girls in the harem were psycoloical. Make them find a lover, a passion, something that they will be willing to stay for. Carniss had imprisoned them, but Amanda knew better than that now. A slave forced to stay will never serve half as well as one who wants to Biat had taught Amanda a lesson far more important than Any Amanda had for her.